The Lionhearted
by mnemophobia321
Summary: Ron unwittingly throws himself, Harry and Hermione into Medieval Syria after mishandling the time turner, much to the dismay of a certain Master Assassin.


**AN: I'll admit it's an unusual crossover but purely for fun and spawned from late night ramblings. Also, it's a collaborative work between myself and fellow author, Athazogora, who I highly recommend to readers! I hope you enjoy this rather quirky piece and we don't own any of the characters in Assassin's Creed or Harry Potter.**

* * *

Tiredness had begun to take its toll on his body. The Grand Master of the Levantine Assassins blinked slowly and his eyelids began to feel heavy as he stared at the paper before him. The dark veil of night had draped over Masyaf and Altaïr relied on the candlelight of his study to illuminate the parchment that he so intently concentrated on. He held a thin stick of charcoal between his fingers that scratched quietly against the surface as he silently regretted his decision to remain awake until he finished his project. A soft breeze whistled through the missing segment of the stained glass window behind Altaïr and grazed over his shoulder sending a small shiver down his spine but his concentration did not falter. Still the charcoal continued to create significant marks in the parchment; forming the illustration he had been slaving over for the past two sunsets.

"My love?" Altaïr's head immediately shot up and his eyes fell upon the figure of his beloved wife. Maria leaned against the cold stone of the archway with her arms crossed over her chest. Her pale skin absorbed the dim light and glowed in turn, similarly to the manner in which her eyes gleamed as she stared at him. He took note of her slightly raised eyebrows and the thin line her lips had formed, combining to indicate her unimpressed attitude. Altaïr could not help but grin, "I too am fatigued and do not wish to chastise you tonight. Sleep, Altaïr." Maria continued as she too struggled to keep her eyes open and actively ignored her husband's obvious amusement at her current state.

"Soon." He replied as he gazed at her, noticing the smallest roll of her eyes. Maria's arms dropped back to her sides as she pushed herself away from the wall.

"Make haste, novice." Maria teased with a knowing smile as she turned on her heel to leave his study. She rested her hand on the wooden banister of the staircase. The wood felt cold beneath her skin, a refreshing sensation to the usual humidity of the night. Maria turned back to Altaïr who scowled.

"Remind me to keep Malik away from you." Altaïr responded in an attempt to convey indifference but Maria simply smiled again at him. He could mask his feelings to any but Maria. It seemed she knew him too well despite several of the members of the Order having known him from childhood.

Maria shook her head as if to imply that Altaïr should know better, "And why would I do that? I have come to enjoy Al Sayf's company." Altaïr knew better than most of Maria's stubborn nature, but her mocking tendencies often proved to be more difficult. Especially when Maria made claims such as taking pleasure in being around Malik. The thought itself unnerved him but also proved to be a relief. Maria had also an aggressive nature about her, as demonstrated by her threat to tear Malik's other arm off should he continuously second guess her. Though she was being humourous Altaïr would not put it past her. Maria took his sudden brooding as her cue to leave him to which he responded with a formal yet distant nod of the head.

Altaïr watched as Maria left his study and sighed inwardly to himself. Perhaps he had spent too much time behind his desk during the night rather than next to his wife. Though he could tell Maria was thankful that he was not intently studying the Apple as he had done so a week prior to this night, there was a certain amount of dislike of his moonlighting endeavours emitting from her. Altaïr took a final glance at her as she disappeared down the stairs before looking back at the parchment that lay before him.

He groaned before crumpling the paper in his fist and lifting himself from the chair, which he unwillingly scraped across the stone floor creating an awful sound that echoed in both the halls and his ears. Gritting his teeth, Altaïr slowly made his way from his study as his countenance expressed the aching in his knees from sitting for too long. His body was not accustomed to remaining idle for many hours. He needed to do something active, or better yet leave Masyaf as he used to.

He rolled his shoulders and moved his neck from side to side as he walked through the courtyard, stifling a yawn all the while. The night created a peaceful atmosphere in Masyaf only for the sunlight to bring about the busy villagers trading, selling and buying. A typical day in Masyaf as overlooked by the stronghold that was the castle located at the top of the hill. Altaïr knew a night with Maria would do him good but it would seem that when he wished to be with her fate would drag him away once more.

A loud crashing sound that Altaïr could not recognise resounded from outside the borders of the village. The sound resembled that of several trees falling but Altaïr spotted no such disturbances. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed in the direction of the abnormal sound and took mere seconds to dart off into the night. He let out small pants as he sped down the hill and took no attempt to use the pathways but instead threw himself off the steep drops before somersaulting as he touched the ground to retain momentum when he returned to a sprint.

The sound had roused many of the villagers that he bound past, earning a mixture of irritated, relieved and curious responses. Although he had not initially noticed them, two of his brothers had formed ranks behind him and ran in step with their mentor in the direction of the sound. He questioned them but both replied that they had no idea what it was they were sprinting towards.

He and the two younger assassins rounded their way around the tall wooden gates of the village, kicking up dust and dirt as their pace seemingly quickened. They turned yet another corner and there it was. Although Altaïr had seen many strange things in his time, mostly deriving from the Apple, he could not possibly have anticipated what lay before him.


End file.
